Page 23 of What He Wants

And familiarity.

I glanced away, pretending that I hadn’t noticed how they lusted over him, how he returned their smiles with flirtatious winks. Jealousy burned through me as if I’d swallowed acid, and I hated myself for it. I felt the urge to lash out, but knew that if I did that I’d only make a fool of myself. Big John wasn’t mine.

I didn’t know where we were going, but my curiosity was answered when we made our way upstairs and then Big John was unlocking and opening one of the doors. One quick glance revealed that the room was used for more than just a bedroom. I took in the huge bed in the center of the room, the dresser opposite it with a big TV on the wall above it. There was even a small table and chair next to the window, and a recliner in the corner. The closet door was open, and I assumed that there was a bathroom behind another closed door.

I realized that this was his personal room as he closed the door behind us.

“Oh, no,” I protested, spinning around to exit the room. “I’m not staying in your room.”

Big John slapped his hand against the wall next to my shoulders, preventing me from getting too far. “What are you afraid of?” His other hand came up, boxing me in on either side.

I raised my gaze reluctantly to his. “Nothing. I can sleep on one of the cots downstairs.”

He moved in closer. “I want you up here.”

“Are you saying that I’m not safe down there? With all your brothers and their families?”

He scowled. “I have plenty of single brothers walking around. I don’t want to worry about them making a move on you.”

I snorted. “Why?” He didn’t respond. “You’re something else, you know that?” I tried to push him away, but my hands against his chest did nothing. “What if the love of my life is down there, just waiting to discover me?” I joked, laughing in the face of his taut-jawed anger. He clearly didn’t like that thought. “Why should I matter to you?”

He exhaled a harsh breath. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Fuck you,” I hissed, getting tired of hearing him say that, and I couldn’t believe I’d dropped the f-bomb. “News flash: I’m an adult, Big John. I don’t need your protection, and frankly I’m tired of hearing you use that as an excuse to get me to do what you want.” There, I’d called him on it, and he looked anything but pleased. Before I knew it he was flush against me and crushing me against the wall. I caught my breath. “What are you doing?”

“You’re right,” he growled down at me. “I pushed you away the night of the party to keep you away from me and the club while I dealt with club shit. But you’re here now.” He moved closer, his great wall of chest muscle flattening my breasts, his face so close his breath whispered across my parted mouth. “And you’re fucked.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that and opened my mouth to ask, but Big John took that second to crush his mouth down on mine. As soon as the firm smoothness of his mouth touched mine, I opened to him like a flower to a bee and I absorbed all of him. I was helpless to fight the sway of his potency, the heat and tantalizing flavor of his tongue as it attacked mine as if he were a hungry beast trying to get every last drop of me.

At first it was just our mouths touching, tasting, biting, and soothing. We couldn’t get enough. The sounds of our loss of control, the pleasure we were taking from each other, filled the room. And then it wasn’t enough. Big John’s hands began to move over me, roaming down the side of my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms. They traveled to the front of my body, shaping and squeezing my breasts through my sweater, losing more control as his hands explored the indentation of my waist, the flare of my hips, and then around to the softness of my bottom.

I moaned, arching my hips into his erection, as he squeezed the cheeks of my butt and drew me against his grinding cock. His deep groans were animalistic, like an animal claiming his mate in the most raw and primitive way, like a wild, savage creature. I was a fool for letting this go so far, but I wanted Big John. I wanted him so badly despite what instinct was warning me against. I reached up and lost my fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging in silent communication for him to give me more.

His fingers went to the hem of my sweater and inched their way beneath, bringing it up my thighs, my hips, my belly, and over my heaving breasts. I had on a red, lacy bra, my breasts swelling over the cups, and he paused to take a look.

A long look.

I watched, spellbound, as his expression grew taut with arousal.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Big John rasped, before taking my breasts into his large hands. He massaged them for a brief while, and then he flicked the front clasp opened with surprising ease, releasing the heavy flesh into his open palms. The callused roughness of his warm skin felt good against my skin, stimulating me into a quivering mess. He groaned low, leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.

I shivered, whimpering with pleasure. Wetness escaped my pussy, I could feel it wetting my thong. “Yes!” I begged him, arching further into his mouth. My hands clenched into his hair, holding him to me firmly. I lay my head back against the wall, mouth open, hips thrusting.

“Say my name,” he demanded, talking around a nipple.

“Big John!” I would have done whatever he wanted if it meant that he would keep his mouth on my breasts.

Grunting, he moved his open mouth back and forth, loving both breasts and nipples equally. He pulled the sweater up and I raised my arms as he took it off me and tossed it to the side. Then his hands dropped to my waist. Our eyes clashed, and I knew that the intensity I saw burning in his matched what he saw reflected in mine. “I want you naked. Now.” The passion in his tone frightened me. My hands fell to where his were at the top of my leggings, but he shook his head and moved my hands aside. “No.”

I stood silently against the wall while Big John kissed his way down my body. My hands fell onto his wide shoulders, moans and whimpers flowing between my lips as I quivered wildly with anticipation. First, he unzipped and removed my boots. Then he pulled my leggings down my body, leaving on the red thong beneath. When I was naked except for the thong, he put his mouth on me and began nibbling, licking, kissing his way back up my legs toward my dripping pussy.

When his nose was level with my pussy he sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. I need a taste.” He nudged the thin covering aside and the next thing I felt was his tongue licking between my folds.

“Oh!” I gasped, as pleasure consumed me in an instant. My hips shot forward as my clit screamed for more contact. “Big John!”

“A taste of heaven, baby.” His tongue lapped my clit and labia, the rough texture of it adding more pleasure than I thought possible. His hands clenched into my butt cheeks, massaging them and pulling me firmer against his mouth. “I’m going to fucking devour you,” Big John groused, licking and sucking on my plump mounds. “Taste so fucking good.” His tongue speared past my pussy, going in deep.

I cried out with pleasant surprise, clenching my nails into his leather padded shoulders. “I want you naked, too, Big John,” I complained. I wanted to see his body, see the tattoos that I knew covered his skin, see the muscular build my hands had already discovered.

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